omething which was done or said, made me
understand why Mr. Markson, who always seemed pleasant and genial with
any one else, was quite silent and guarded when his wife was with him.

Pretty soon the people of Bartley knew all about the Marksons. How
people learn all about other people is more than I can explain. _I_
never have a chance to know all about my neighbors, for I am kept busy
in looking to myself; but if all the energy that is devoted to other
people's business in Bartley were expended on house-building, trade
would soon be so dull that I should be longing for a mansion in the
skies.

Everybody in Bartley knew that Helen Markson's mother, who was very
beautiful and lovable, had died years before, and that her stepmother
had been Mrs. Markson only two or three years; that the second Mrs.
Markson had married for money, and that her husband was afraid of her,
and would run away from her if it wasn't for Helen; that Mrs. Markson
sometimes got angry, and then she raved like mad, and that it was
wearing Mr. Markson's life away; for he was a tender-hearted man, in
spite of his smartness. Some even declared that Markson had willed her
all his property, and insured his life heavily for her besides, and that
if he died before Helen was married, Helen would be a beggar.

But none of these things had anything to do with my contract. I worked
away and had good weather, so I lost no time, and at the end of five
months I had finished the house, been paid for it, had paid my bills,
and made a clear two thousand dollars on the job. I could have made a
thousand more, without any one being the wiser for it, but I don't
build houses in that way--the public will greatly oblige me by cutting
this out. This money gave me a handsome business start, and having had
no serious losses, nor any houses thrown back upon my hands--(for I
always make it a point to do a little better than I promise, so folks
can't find fault)--I am now quite well off, and building houses on my
own account, to sell; while some of my competitors, who started before I
did, have been through bankruptcy, while some have been too poor to do
even that.

A few years after building Markson's house, I went with a Southern
friend into a black-walnut speculation. We bought land in the Southwest,
cut the timber, got it to market, and made a handsome profit, I am glad
to say. This business took me away from home, and kept me for months,
but, as I was still without fami